


(If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To

by cathadoodledoo



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, but so is anna, kristoff is awkward, so they make it work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-21 13:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1552238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathadoodledoo/pseuds/cathadoodledoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna's high school career so far has been pretty standard. She's a straight-B student, slightly awkward (as all teenagers are), and lusts after the hot guy in her biology class who barely knows her name. It's not until she's paired up with the quiet kid in her health class to take care of a fake baby that she finds something special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Anna

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough Kristanna high school AUs, so I decided to actually do something about it.
> 
> Comments and kudos are much appreciated, as is constructive criticism.  
> I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> (title taken from Weezer's song with the same name)

_Then the conversation stopped_

_And I looked down at my feet_

_I was next to you_

_And you were right there next to me_

**********

Whoever said that high school is the best four years of your life must've been on one hell of a drug. That, or they peaked at age seventeen. Anna bets the latter, looking at some of the kids in her Spanish class. Some of them are popular, or something, and seem like the ones who might grow up trying to relive their teenage years.

Anna has spent the better part of her life studying popularity. She had decided long ago that being popular is not decided by your amount of friends, but had yet to figure out what does. She can't decide if it's the clothes, the financial status, the extracurriculars… Maybe it's some godly combination of everything. That's probably the most likely explanation, but she can't piece together an equation. Math is not her strong subject.

It's not so much that she admires them. She's merely fascinated. She's always loved a challenge or a puzzle, and this one is ongoing.

She decides to let it go for now, though, and turns her attention back to her classwork. They're doing a worksheet on the present perfect tense, which is completely lost on her. Foreign languages aren't really her strong subject either. As a matter of fact, she's not sure if she even has any.

She finishes it in about fifteen minutes, hoping she got at least half right. She scribbles a little "Sorry!" at the bottom with a smiley face next to it and passes it in to her class's tray.

The bell won't ring for another five minutes, so she kills time by studying the other people in the room. There're the popular people, like Maria and Peter and Caitlin, who are regaling each other with stories of sports injuries. Then there's one drama kid, Thomas, who seldom blinks or speaks but is a spectacular tenor. There are a couple nerds and geeks, like the Type-A Bella who is on the debate team, student council, and geography club, along with a chubby kid Anna doesn't know the name of who makes a lot of Skyrim references (at least, she thinks it's Skyrim. Maybe it's Legend of Zorro? Or is that a movie?). The class clown Olaf is absent today, and the quiet in the class without him is strange.

Then there are the outliers. Anna can't quite fit them into a specific category, which she's okay with, though it gives her less to do when she's bored. Gerri is small with doll-like features. Her family is very religious and she always wears drab, conservative clothing, but if you talk to her for twenty seconds she'll manage to sneak an innuendo into the conversation. Calvin talks too loudly and only writes in purple ink.

Then there's Kristoff. Anna is pretty sure she's never met anyone of so few words before, and all the words he  _did_ speak were gruffly grunted. As far as she knows, he doesn't have any friends. He probably scares everyone off. She's tried to get to know him before, but he didn't really talk much. As a matter of fact, he didn't talk at all. He just looked at Anna with a slightly confused glare while she talked his ear off. She took the hint eventually, and assumed he just liked to be alone.

That was three years ago, and he doesn't seem to have changed much. He never volunteers in class (and she's got three classes with him) and always works alone whenever they're supposed to have partners. He seems to be an introvert in the extreme.

The bell rings, interrupting Anna's thoughts, and she collects her books and goes to her next class. Biology. Where the hottest guy she's ever laid eyes on will be.

She smiles while she walks, not noticing that she might look kinda weird (a teenager smiling for no reason at school?), picturing Hans in a tuxedo. Picturing Hans not in a tuxedo. Picturing Hans holding a kitten. Picturing Hans using cheesy pick-up lines on her.

I'd like to study biology with him, she thinks. Wait, that sounds weird. It'd work better if we were in anatomy together. Or chemistry. Well, it'd have to be a different line for chemistry, actually--

Anna walks straight into something warm and solid and bounces back heavily, dropping her books and teetering backwards. She almost falls to the ground, but a large hand catches hers. She looks up, heart beating wildly from adrenaline and embarrassment, and warm green eyes meet hers.

"Hans," she says breathlessly.

"Glad I caught you," he replies smoothly. "You could've hurt yourself." He straightens her up and collects her books from the floor, returning them to her arms.

"Thanks. Sorry I bumped into you," she smiles bashfully, feeling a blush creeping into her cheeks. "I wasn't really looking where I was going, so…" She tucks a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, feeling awkward.

"Hey, no harm done," he grins easily. They start walking to biology together, chatting idly about last night's homework. Anna laughs a little too loudly when he makes a joke, but he doesn't seem to notice.

She spends the entire class staring at the back of his head. What a nicely-shaped head he has. 

 

**********

 

"Everyone, please take your seats!" Mr. Chen announces, clapping his hands together. "We're starting a new unit today."

"I hope it's sex ed," Anna's friend Olivia whispers to her from behind. Anna chuckles, picturing her health teacher trying to talk about vaginas. He couldn't even say the word "anatomy" without turning red and stuttering.

"So," the teacher begins, leaning on his desk, "this unit is called Parental Responsibility. Each of you," he starts striding over to a cart in the front of the room, "will be paired up and given one of these." He reaches into the cart and pulls out a baby doll. The whole class eyes it suspiciously.

"Your term project," Mr. Chen continues, "will be to take care of these babies with your partner for a month. You have to feed it, clothe it, change its diaper, and essentially be good parents. It's designed to show you guys what it's like so maybe you'll think twice about having unprotected sex. 50% of this grade is based on a little photo album with at least ten pictures of you, your partner, and the baby being a family, and also one essay per person about your experience with this project and what it taught you." The class groans. He just grins. "Each of these simulators is equipped with a tracker that will record if it is handled roughly or ignored for too long. So don't drop it. Treat it like a real baby. These things are expensive, guys."

A boy near Anna raises his hand. "Do we get to pick our partners?"

"No, I'll be picking them for you." The sound of twenty protesting teenagers swells and he waves at them to quiet down.

"Hey, hey!" he snaps. "If it's so bad, I'll just have you all take care of one by yourself. How does that sound?" The chorus dies down to the occasional disgruntled mutter.

"I already have your partners picked for you. And it was not random, so don't even hope you got to be with one of your friends." He grabs a clipboard off his desk and flips a few papers. "Alright, period 5…? Oh, here we go," he mumbles and clears his throat. "Michaela and Andrea. Nadine and Ian. Brendan and Lily. Jack and TJ. Emily and Olivia. Gretchen and Frankie. Hayley and Sarah. Anna and Kristoff. Abigail and Dylan. Adam and Mike. And Joey and April." He puts the clipboard back on his desk and says "Okay, get with your partner. I'll pass around the box of simulators. Don't touch anything until I tell you what to do. Just put them on the desk."

Anna gets her stuff and walks over to the windows, where Kristoff is slumped in his chair. He straightens up a little as she approaches and gives her a tight smile.

"So, we should probably get together a couple of times to give it clothes and stuff and take pictures and everything. Where should we get clothes for it? We can probably find some cheap ones at Target or something. Is there a difference between the boy and girl dolls? Oh, wait, look. TJ's has a pink slip on. And Gretchen's has blue. Ugh, I think that's so stupid. We enforce gender roles at such a young age. 'Pink is a girl color and blue is a boy color!' Give me a break. We should dress the boy in pink or the girl in blue, depending on what we get. Oh, what should we do for the pictures? Maybe we can go to a playground and put it in one of the baby swings and take pictures pushing it. And we can 'feed' it ice cream or something. Do you have any pets? We can get one of the doll and the pet. That'd be cute. What do you think we should name it?" Anna chatters. Kristoff looks slightly overwhelmed.

"Uh, sorry," Anna laughs awkwardly. "I talk a lot."

"I could tell."

"In the future, feel free to let me know when I'm babbling."

Neither of them say anything for a few moments. Anna feels uncomfortable in the silence, so she takes a breath to say something. Before she does, though, Kristoff says "I like the name Loretta."

"What?" she asks, caught off-guard.

"Uh, Loretta," he repeats. "For a girl. And for a boy, I kind of like Elias."

Anna hums. "You like old-fashioned names, huh?"

"I guess so," he shrugs. "I just like how they sound. Oh, and I have a dog, too. His name is Sven. We can get a picture with him."

"Ooh, what kind of dog is he?" she squeals. "I love dogs. Big dogs, especially. Like Irish Wolfhounds and Saint Bernards. Well, Saint Bernards are a little slobbery, but they're so sweet. I actually really like little dogs, too. Like dachshunds! They're so cute with their little stubby legs! Oh, and speaking of stubby legs, I love corgis. My cousin has one that--"

"You're babbling," Kristoff interrupts.

"Oh! Right. Sorry," Anna bites her lip. She feels like she's scaring him off. This is the most they've ever interacted, and she doesn't want to ruin it.

"He's a Golden Retriever," he tells her. "Sven is, I mean."

"Really? I  _love_ Golden Retrievers!" she exclaims. Kristoff looks wary at this proclamation.

"Don't worry, I'll leave it at that," she promises, and he gives her a small, crooked smile.

"Although," she says, "there was this one I met last summer--" Her partner groans exaggeratedly, and she laughs at the look on his face.

"I'm only kidding!" she reassures him. "But you might wanna get used to my prattling. We'll be seeing each other a lot."

Ian taps on her shoulder to give her the box of simulators, and when she turns around to get it, she misses the shy, genuine smile stretching across Kristoff's face.


	2. Kristoff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for feedback

"But you might wanna get used to my prattling," she says. "We'll be seeing each other a lot." She turns around when Ian taps on her shoulder, and Kristoff lets a smile break out across his face. He tames it when she turns back around with the box. They both pick through the simulators with similar looks of mild distaste at what the doll makers consider "anatomically correct."

"Boy or girl?" Anna asks, holding one in each hand.

"You pick."

"Hmmm…" She glances back and forth between them, apparently settling on the girl. She gently places the male doll back in the box and passes it on to the next pair of students. Kristoff wraps a large hand around the simulator's middle and studies how the doll seems to have rubber skin.

"Fascinating," he murmurs, and bends an arm in an odd direction. "How does this work--" He almost drops the doll in fright when it lets out a piercing, robotic-sounding wail.

"What part of  _don't touch anything_ _until I say so_ do you not understand?" Mr. Chen thunders, hurrying over to the pair of teenagers. He plucks the baby out of Kristoff's hands and flips it over, unbuttoning the bottom of the doll's onesie and pressing a small button on the butt.

"That is so wrong," a boy near Anna mutters to his smirking friend.

The teacher places the baby back on Kristoff's desk with an exasperated sigh. "In case any of you missed it," he announces, " _do not_ touch the simulators until I say so. Just leave them on your desk. Very simple instructions, guys."

The blond boy feels his face heating up, especially when Anna looks at him with a hand over her mouth, suppressing a snort. She's mostly unsuccessful.

"Oh, shut up," he mutters, without meaning. The girl lets out a small cackle.

"Fatherhood seems to be going well for you so far," she giggles. Kristoff likes when she laughs. It makes her nose wrinkle a little in a way that he finds incredibly endearing. He spends a lot of time watching her from afar, seeing her laugh with other people, but never with him, and he didn't know it would feel this nice to be included in a joke by someone.

It's not that Kristoff is a loser. At least, not an involuntary loser. He just prefers to kind of keep to himself. He doesn't have much patience for his classmates, so he tries to avoid them as much as possible, and they avoid him.

Except Anna.

Anna is the only person Kristoff can think of who has ever actively tried to befriend him. Of course, he kind of fucked that up by not saying anything at all back to her when she talked to him a couple years ago, but she doesn't seem to have held it against him. There's nothing but kindness in her eyes when she looks at him. He doesn't want to admit to himself how much any positive human interaction means to him, but he can't deny the warm feeling he gets by merely reveling in a joke with someone.

"So," his partner says, squinting at the baby appraisingly. "Loretta Joanna Larsen-Bjorgman?"

"That's kind of a mouthful," Kristoff laughs. "It'd sound better if it were Bjorgman-Larsen. I hate alliterative names."

"Oh, you do?" Anna says. "I'd bet you'd  _love_ my father's name."

"Oh, dear."

"His name is Lars Larsen." She laughs again at Kristoff's groan, a loud one erupting from her belly and out her mouth.

"My uncle's name is Bob Bjorgman," he whispers to her in shame, and she laughs even harder.

 

**********

 

"Kristoff? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me, Bulda," he replies as he shuts the front door. He toes off his shoes and slings his backpack over the end of the banister in his front hall and pads into the kitchen to join his foster mother as she cooks dinner. He gives her a peck on the cheek, then grabs a granola bar from the pantry and sits down at the table.

"Don't eat too much, or you'll spoil your appetite," she admonishes, waving a wooden spoon at him.

"I'm not sure that's even possible," he says with raised eyebrows, taking a big bite out of his snack. Bulda chuckles.

"Now, what have you been up to?" she asks. "It's 4:30! You should've been back at 3!" Kristoff swallows hard before answering.

"I stayed after school to talk about a project with a friend," he explains.

"Ooh! A friend?" she asks excitedly. He groans internally.

"Is it a girl?" she continues.

"Yes."

"What's her name? What's she like?" Bulda pauses stirring the pot of whatever is on the stove, and turns to look at him. "Tell me all about her! Is she cute? Do you like her?"

"No, it's not like that," Kristoff protests. "She's just a friend. 'Friend' might even be too strong a word. She's just… an acquaintance. A friendly acquaintance." He tries not to wilt at the look of disappointment on his foster mother's face.

"That's too bad," she murmurs, going back to her cooking.

"Her name is Anna," he tries to remedy. "She's very nice. And yes," he sighs, "she's cute."

"Well, I'm glad you're meeting people at school. I don't like seeing you so lonely!" Bulda tells him. Kristoff rolls his eyes.

"I'm not  _lonely._ I just don't get along well with people."

"Maybe you can't see it, but a mother has her instincts. I think you're lonely. But," she wipes her hands on her apron, "I think a friend will be good for you."

 

**********

 

Later that night, Kristoff can't help but think back on his mom's words. Maybe she's right. Maybe he is lonely. He doesn't think he could ever admit it to himself, though, so he accepts that a friendship could be good for him and leaves it at that.

The next morning, he has health first period. When he walks in, Anna is waiting for him at his desk, holding Loretta.

"Look!" she squeals. "I made her a dress!" She shoves it into his arms and he gives it an appraising look.

"Yes, you… did?" He's not sure that the lopsided, baggy, knitted  _thing_ with only one sleeve really qualifies as a dress.

"I know it's a little rough, but I'm working on it," she reassures him. "I got my sister to help me. She taught me how to knit. Well, kind of," she says, inspecting the sloppy stitches with furrowed brows.

"It's great," Kristoff tells her sincerely, and the little fib is completely worth it when she beams back at him.

"You're so nice!" she exclaims. "I know it's awful, you don't have to make me feel better about it." But the bright smile lingers on her face, and Kristoff wouldn't take it back for anything.


	3. Anna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is so short and really shitty. I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, if you notice any typos, please let me know! I won't get offended; I promise.

Anna is pleasantly surprised at how nice Kristoff can be. Maybe he's gotten over the whole glaring-and-not-talking thing. He's still rough around the edges, of course. He's frequently grumpy and always looks like he hasn't slept in two weeks (which, in high school, is entirely possible). Just yesterday, he'd snapped at Tim Holloway, a barely-there wisp of a boy who skipped three grades back in elementary school, for blocking the water fountain while Anna was walking down the hall. Anna isn't sure, but she thinks she saw tears well up in Tim's eyes.

When she sits down with Kristoff in health the day after, she squints at him a little, nose scrunching slightly. He doesn't notice for about forty-five seconds, but when he does, his face is blank.

"What?" he asks.

"I saw you being rude to Tim yesterday," she huffs, crossing her arms. "What was up with that?"

Kristoff rolls his eyes.

"He was in my way."

"Give the kid a break!" she splays her arms out. "He's, like, eleven! You didn't need to yell at him!"

"I didn't  _yell_ at him," Kristoff protests, leaning forward a little bit. "And I don't care how old he is. He was in my way, so I politely asked him to move!"

"Politely?!" Anna exclaims incredulously. He motions for her to lower her voice.

"In what world is making a kid almost cry  _polite?_ " she says, complying with his request to quiet down a little.

"He didn't cry. It's not a big deal, Anna!"

"It is to me." She raises an eyebrow at him, seemingly daring him to challenge her. He slumps in his chair with a sigh.

"Fine," he says.

Anna can't help but feel a little triumphant (and giddy). She's not used to putting her foot down like this. It's exhilarating. And a little scary.

Mr. Chen stands up then as the bell rings and addresses the class.

"If you and your partner haven't figured out a schedule to take care of the baby, you need to do that now. Then I need you all to take your textbooks out and answer the questions on page 224 about abstinence."

Anna turns back to Kristoff and pulls out a green notebook, tearing a sheet of paper out of it. She scrawls "Baby Schedule" at the top in her barely-legible handwriting, then draws up a chart with the days of the week as the rows and the week number as columns.

"I can't take care of her tonight," she says apologetically. "I'm going out to dinner for my sister's birthday."

"Alright, I'll take her. I have nothing going on," he says.

"Okay, I'll take her tomorrow. Do you wanna meet up Saturday to start on the photo album?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Awesome! You can come to my house at 12ish. We can have lunch."

"Where do you even live?"

"Oh! Right," she tears a small piece off of a sheet of paper and scribbles her address down on it, then slides it over to her partner.

"Alright," she says, surveying the nearly-empty chart. Do you want to mark the days you think you're able to take care of the baby? Then I can mark mine and we can figure it out from there."

He takes the paper from her slowly, eyes darting up to her face briefly before he hunches over it and starts marking squares. When he hands it back, she feels confused.

"You marked every box," she states.

"Yeah," he sighs.

"You're free every day?" she asks.

"Probably." She peers up at his face, at his brown eyes.

"You don't do any extra-curriculars? Sports? Debate team? Drama?" He shakes his head, shaggy hair waving.

"Chess?" she guesses. He just laughs.

"Huh." She looks back down at the paper, brows furrowing as she remembers something.

"But you stayed after school with me the other day," she reminds him. "What about stuff like that?"

He stares at her face for a few seconds. Anna think for a moment that he didn't hear her or something, but then he opens his mouth and reluctantly says, "That was the first time in about three years I've ever stayed after school. For any reason."

She gawps at him, until he looks a little uncomfortable. She schools her face into something less shocked.

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we?" she says after a moment, smiling faintly at the happiness that seems to flare up in Kristoff's big eyes.


End file.
